


New Patient: Lover

by Third_Eye



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, also so much eddie, but with a lot about waylon, chris and miles are gonna be a thing, heavily omc centric, idk - Freeform, inmates actually get help by the end of this story i swear, made up background stuff for the walrider, waylon gets to be with his family again yay, we'll see how this turns out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Third_Eye/pseuds/Third_Eye
Summary: Cecil did this to prove Miles wrong. The man was harming himself in his search for the truth and it was scaring him. He would do anything to help his friend, even if that meant losing himself in the process.





	1. A Job

Mount Massive Asylum, the place for the damned, or at least that’s what Cecil’s journalist buddy, Miles, would always tell him whenever he would bring up Miles’ work. The man seemed obsessed with the strange business regime of the “sketchy” Murkoff Corporation. He would go on long rants about wives, friends, and family members would never hear from their loved ones who were transferred or opted to self institutionalize themselves at the institute. Cecil was far less skeptical than his journalist counterpart as he was a man of science and logic. Not everyone could go around being paranoid over every little thing that they see as somehow peculiar in one way or another. Things were not meant to be over-analyzed to the extremes that Miles put things under and Cecil knew this for a fact, although he wished Miles would understand it as well. 

It was exactly this kind of analytical overthinking that made Miles lose his job Daily Queues to begin with. He would go far to deep into a subject that he was assigned, somehow find something so incriminating about an organization that could result in a lawsuit, and then he was eventually shut out when he tried to make something come of nothing at all. With all of his faults though, Cecil still enjoyed his company. Miles was a fantastic roommate and friend, and he was always there when Cecil needed him. So, he supposed that was exactly why he was doing this. Cecil knew Miles needed help, he knew that this obsession with the Murkoff Corporation was getting out of hand, and that was why he was going to put a stop to it himself. 

Miles wouldn’t eat without Cecil having to physically drag him away from a computer screen, and if it was eating it was sleeping. The man would not sleep a wink for almost a week and during that time period Cecil managed to find the cheapest portable safe money could buy and confiscated all of Miles reporter equipment and regulated time periods for which he could have them back for a short amount of time.

For a short while, this process worked. Cecil would come home to their shared apartment, Miles would begrudgingly hand over his laptop and phone, and they would eat. Afterwards they would spend some time relaxing watching a movie or playing whatever videogame they had on hand and eventually get some rest. Both men were happy with this process and it worked swimmingly until September 1st rolled around. This was when the emails started. 

The emails were from random family members, friends, and lovers of patients at Mount Massive who had somehow heard of the work that Miles was putting into researching the ins and outs of the corporations and their alleged shadiness. It simply pushed his obsession with the organization and the mental hospital over the edge. 

He didn’t listen to Cecil anymore and frankly he was worried about Miles. So there he sat with his heavily decorated laptop sitting on his lap as one Cecil Thompson filled out an application for a nurse at Mount Massive Asylum. The application itself was pretty basic at first, just going through the normal ins and outs of who he was, his date of birth, sex, etc. Then came the questionnaire that was filled with questions about personal interests and what exactly he could provide for the good of the corporation and the patients themselves, some patients of which were not of the more mentally stable variety and some of those questions pertained to how exactly he would deal with outbursts or mental breakdowns. Cecil viewed himself as a fairly compassionate individual and answered that if a patient was having an outburst of any kind he would try his best to help them in anyway that he possibly could unless the patient got violent which he was certainly not equipped for dealing with in anyway shape or form. 

The screen of his laptop was glaring and he rubbed his eyes as he finished answering the last question of the questionnaire. His red hair slipped in front of his eyes distractingly and he pushed it back from his face with an irritated huff as he dragged his resume into the uploading box. 

25%

47%

76%

89%

100%

Finally the resume was uploaded and this had become the end of Cecil’s application. He clicked the finish button with a tired grin on his face and exited the tab as the screen told him that a response would be given to him via email for whether or not he would obtain an interview in the future. For Miles’ sake Cecil hoped that he would not only land the interview but also the job. He was so done seeing his friend ruining himself over people that he did not even know. He wanted to show Miles once and for all that nothing would come of this. With this he shut his laptop and went to the kitchen to start making dinner for the two of them. Cecil was going to make absolutely certain that Miles was going to be eating tonight. 

He decided to make a simple meal, as he didn’t want to make the whole thing a grand occasion and started on making some rice. After putting the cover over the pot for the rice steam up, Cecil started on making some fried eggs and whipped up some blueberry sausage to go with it. He knew that if he was going to break this news to Miles he would have to do it over food that he knew the man enjoyed, food always helped when letting Miles in on news that the man might possibly find unsavory.   
Cecil had just started plating the food and getting drinks out of the fridge when he heard the front door open. He popped his head out of the entrance to see Miles closing the door and drying his boots off on the mat in front of the door. 

“Hey!” Cecil smiled and made his way over to his soaked friend and handed him a beer. “Ya need me to get ya a towel hon? You look chilled to the bone.”   
Miles just replied with a weary smile and nod as he opened the beer in his hand. Cecil took a minute to get the fluffiest and warmest towel in his arsenal of washcloths and blankets, and wrapped the towel around his friend’s shoulders and made quick work of drying Miles’ short undercut as the man pouted under his touch. 

“I made dinner.” Cecil said, smiling at the disheveled look Miles was now sporting. 

Miles smiled back- more of a quirk of the lips than an actual smile, but that’s how he did it- and took the towel from Cecil’s grasp placing it around his neck as he took a sip of his beer. “You always make dinner.”

Cecil huffed and skipped over to their small kitchen. “That’s funny because you’re never eating it.” He said as he placed the loaded plates on their table for two.   
Miles frowned at the accusation and followed him into the kitchen. “I have other things that I need to do Ceec.”

He looked at the meal in front of him and took a seat, beer in hand. “It looks good though man.” He placed a cold hand on Cecil’s arm as the other man sat across from him. “Really. I can’t wait to dig in.”

Cecil laughed softly and stabbed a piece of sausage with his fork and chowed down with Miles quickly following his example. Miles practically licked his plate clean and handed his plate over to Cecil who had finished his own meal as well and was starting on the dishes in the sink. Their own dishwasher had broke earlier that week and it was in dire need of fixing, but Cecil knew how to wash dishes like a normal person and wasn’t concerned with the issue and started to scrub down on their dirty dishes. Meanwhile, Miles took out his laptop and got to work on the damn Murkoff case once again. It wasn’t anything else but that case and Cecil knew it. This was the perfect moment to confront him about his new job. 

“So, Miles I got some news bud.” Cecil started, as he diligently scrubbed the filth from a pan in the sink.

Miles didn’t look up from his screen, simply grunted in Cecil’s general direction like the heathen he had become.

Cecil whistled. “Wow. Yeah. Great. Never mind me getting a new job isn’t that important. I’ll just go talk to a wall or something. Whatever.”

Miles stopped typing as a scowl formed on his face. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Cecil had his back completely turned from Miles, as if creating a wall between them so the other man couldn’t see how pissed off he was. 

“Oh. Absolutely nothing, Miles dearest, do you need another beer? Shall I wash all of your clothes and pack you a lunch for tomorrow?”

He had struck a nerve apparently, because suddenly Miles was behind him grabbing his arm. “What the fuck is wrong Cecil? I did absolutely nothing to you to warrant this bullshit.”

Cecil ripped his arm from Miles’ grip and swerved around to face him head on. “NOTHING?” He exclaimed angrily. “STARVING YOURSELF AND MAKING ME HAVE TO PICK UP THE PIECES OF YOUR IMMATURITY IS NOT NOTHING MILES UPSHUR!” 

Miles’ face drifted between facial expressions for a moment before it became resigned. “I’m trying to get the truth out there about these scumbags Ceec. I’m trying to save lives here.”

Cecil was beyond pissed. “You’re not going to save anybody if you’re dead you fucking moron!”

He stomped his way over to the open doorway of the bedroom the two of them usually shared and swiftly turned to face Miles. 

“Oh and just for the record. I’ve got an interview with Murkoff in a two days so I guess we’ll see how fucked up these guys really are soon enough.” 

Miles was sleeping on the couch tonight.


	2. Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil meets Jeremy Blaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always hated Jeremy cuz he's such a scumbag, but they did so well at making him a scumbag so I can't complain.

It was official, Cecil was a fucking idiot and although he would never admit it to Miles he knew he had made a mistake by going for another job especially with the Murkoff Corporation. His anxiety was flooding his brain with every imaginable inhale and he could do nothing to stop the onslaught of thoughts of failure. What ifs flashed through his mind nonstop and his fingers tapped out a rhythm that at any other moment would be soothing to his mind but at this exact moment did nothing to help his overflowing anxiety. All Cecil could think about was how dry his throat was and the impending disaster that would be his life whether or not he succeeded to land this job. Miles hadn’t been particularly welcoming to the idea of Cecil working for his “sworn enemy” and had made absolutely sure that Cecil had known just that over a shouting match in their kitchen. 

Just remembering the argument brought a phantom ringing to Cecil’s ears where he sat in Mr. Blaire’s office. He was still waiting for the mysterious Mr. Blaire to show himself, what with this being Cecil’s final review and all he simply wanted to get the whole ordeal over with. 

The door to the office opened suddenly, and a man dressed to the nines waltzed in with a phone pressed to his ear as he argued with someone on the other line. The man in question walked over to the spacious desk in front of where Cecil was now standing and sat in the big, comfy looking chair.

“Mr. Montgomery. I’m really not interested in your excuses.” The man drawled out with a snotty kind of superiority in his voice, and tapped his fingers against the desk in an impatient manner. “Fix your mistakes Mr. Montgomery, or you will likely find yourself out of a job.”

The man at the desk abruptly hung up the phone and threw it haphazardly onto the desk in front of him. He stared at the phone for a moment with a thumb absentmindedly rubbing against his lower lip and brought his attention to Cecil. His stare was cold as he assessed the other man standing nervously before him. 

“You must be my two o clock.” The man opened a drawer in the desk, pulled out a folder, and began to glance over its contents. “Cecil Thompson, is it?”

Cecil stood a little straighter and nodded. “Yessir.”

The man at the desk stood and outstretched his hand in greeting. “The name’s Jeremy Blaire, kid.”

Cecil took the offered hand and shook. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Blaire.”

Blaire sat back down and motioned for Cecil to sit as well. “Well, we might as well get down to business then.”

Thus ensued the most nerve-wracking interview of Cecil’s life. With every question that Blaire asked he would pin him with this cold stare that made Cecil feel like a mouse caught by a cat who was simply going to play with their prey rather than eat them right away. Blaire started with normal questions about previous employment, why Cecil wanted this job in particular, and how he would be able to contribute to the kind of work environment Murkoff had set up. Cecil tried to answer the questions as honestly as possible without bringing up Miles or showing his anxiousness anymore so than he already had. 

Blaire had been writing something down in the folder marked with Cecil’s name in a brief silence in the interview and abruptly stood from his seat, taking the folder in his hand as he went. 

“Well, Mr. Thompson, you seem like just the kind of help we need here.” Even with such a surprising response, and charming smile on his face, Blaire’s eyes were as cold as ice and the look in his eyes went unnoticed somehow by the young man in front of him. “We have a very strict routine here, but I think you are the kind of refreshing face that we need here at Murkoff. Some of our in- ahem- patients here get bored after seeing the same monotone faces day in and day out.”

Blaire opened the door of his office and motioned Cecil to follow him out with an outstretched hand. “Just out of curiosity Mr. Thompson, when do you think you will be available to start?”

“Wow… Um. As soon as possible Mr. Blaire.” Cecil replied, eyes wide in shock that he landed the job so fast. “I’m just really surprised that you would want me on the job so quickly?”

Blaire chuckled, the smile never fully reaching his eyes. “I won’t lie to you Mr. Thompson, the atmosphere is not the best as it could be, and the interviews I’ve had lately have not be quite so as pleasant as ours today.” They rounded a corner of the hall. “You have a wonderful way about you that shows me how dedicated you will become to this job and our patients. Plus it’s all about the smile. So many of our employees and patients alike have become effected by the dull atmosphere of the hospital.”

Cecil quirked an uncertain smile at the compliment, but couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his gut. “Thank you sir… Um. May I ask where we are headed?”  
They rounded another corner and Blaire gave him another not so heart felt smile. “Just to the employee locker room, Mr. Thompson, so we can get you a coat, and then to the front office so we can make you a employee card.”

They came to the locker room door and Blaire pushed it open with a squeak eliciting from the door. They proceeded to walk in side and Blaire made his way to a closet near by and brought out a plastic packaged coat and handed Cecil the package. 

“That’s a size small. Do you think that will work for you?” Blaire asked, gesturing vaguely to the package that Cecil now held in his hands. 

“Oh. Yeah. Definitely.” Cecil replied and clutched the coat package to his chest. “My body hasn’t grown since sophomore year of high school, which kind of stinks for me.”

He ran a hand through his hair and clutched the package in his other hand. 

They walked out of the room and as Blaire shut the door behind them he motioned to the left. “We’re just going to head the front office real quick to get your employee card and then you’re a free to start this Friday if you’re available.”

Cecil was one step behind Blaire as they walked, his short legs making it relatively hard for him to keep up with the other man. “This Friday sounds fine sir.” 

He tried to keep his new coat from slipping out of his hands as he sped up to keep a steady pace with the older man. 

“Good then. I’m sure you will be adjusted to the environment in no time at.” Blaire said and opened the door to the front office. 

The man who helped Cecil with his new work ID card was named Caleb. At first glance he seemed like the kind of man that people would just glaze over. He wore a simple white button down short-sleeved shirt with a black tie running down it, and black slacks with freshly shined black shoes. He typed on the computer with one hand and wrote on a registry sheet with the other hand. He was a talkative man who didn’t seem to mind Blaire’s hostile aura or Cecil’s nervous smile. 

A short chirp erupted from some strange machinery Cecil did not know the name of and Caleb whistled a short tune and grabbed a freshly laminated employee ID for Cecil. “One ID fresh off the press for our new friend Mr. Thompson!” Caleb said with an overly friendly grin, Cecil forced a smile in return and took the card from Caleb’s grip. 

Blaire finished a quick text on his phone and looked up from the Blackberry to meet Cecil’s eye. “Well Mr. Thompson, welcome to the Murkoff Corporation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna get to Eddie alreadyyyyyy!!


	3. Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil finally meets Eddie and a few other patients.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER HOLY CRAP!!!

Cecil’s first day at Mount Massive started at 8 o’clock in the morning. He packed a pseudo bento box lunch in his Darth Vader lunch box- the only one he had that wasn’t shredded to bits from wear and tear or in Miles’ possession- and tried his hardest not to make eye contact with the still half asleep form of his best friend and roommate. He was still mad and nothing would change that, except maybe binge watching Angel, eating two gallons of mint chocolate chip gelato, and chomping down on caramel popcorn. Cecil was ready to wait those two weeks for that to happen, and he knew that it would happen as he took his apartment key from the hanger with his new employee ID card dangling from the frayed Batman lanyard. 

It took 25 minutes to get to Mount Massive Asylum via bus and Cecil spent most of that time reading his well-read paperback of “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” and making sure that creepy dudes didn’t try to steal his shit. Minutes felt like seconds as the bus came to a stop and Cecil’s head popped up. He got off the bus with a dash and flashed his ID card at the guard at the gate with a friendly smile. The gate opened with a buzz and Cecil exhaled a steady sigh as he walked through the iron wrought doors. 

His first stop was checking in with Caleb at the front desk. The man in question was wearing the exact same attire, as the he had been the day before and smiled readily as Cecil approached the desk. 

“Hey there newbie! Ready for your first day on the job?” Caleb said with a welcoming grin. 

Cecil fiddled with the buttons on his lab coat subconsciously. “Yeah. Do you know who my first visit is? Mr. Blaire said something about a list?”

Caleb wheeled backward into the office and pulled out a folder. “This should have everything you need to know about your designated patients.” He flipped through the first few pages of the folder and whistled lowly. “Good luck with these ones buddy. You’ve got your hands full for sure.”

Cecil looked over the first patient overview.

“Edward Gluskin; white, male; sexually abused; serial murderer; fascination with the perfect woman, more like the perfect wife.”

Cecil wrinkled his nose in disgust, and paused as he looked at Gluskin’s picture. He was certainly handsome, and if he hadn’t become so twisted as to go on a murderous hunting spree Cecil might have at one point seen the man as dateable. 

He flipped to the next profile.

“Christopher Walker; white, male; marine corps veteran; suffering from PTSD; self admitted as so not to harm others unwittingly.”

Cecil was beginning to see a pattern, one that he was going to tread lightly around. All of the patients that he had been assigned to had histories of violence and were all extremely larger than him; it was certainly an intimidating predicament. His first meeting for the day was with Gluskin, specifically to speak with him about how he was feeling. It was important for individuals that had once dealt with physically and mentally traumatizing experiences to have someone to talk to so that they did not feel the need to resort to unhealthy methods of treatment for what ailed them. 

He shut the folder and put it under his arm, sparing a brief, uncomfortable smile for Caleb before he left for room 23 B. He walked down the hallway observing the different door numbers until he reached his destination. Cecil smiled at the guard available and thanked him as he opened the door for him.   
The door closed behind him and Cecil inhaled sharply as an overbearingly tall man invaded his space. His folder fell to the floor, as he was suddenly crowded against the door. Cecil could feel his heart speeding up as large hand came to cradle his cheek. His eyes were so blue and- WAY TOO CLOSE!

Cecil snapped out of his strange daze and tried pushing against to man’s chest to push him away. The man only pulled him into his arms and smiled a blinding smile down on him. 

“Well you are definitely a change from those most rude doctors, darling.” The man- Gluskin Cecil’s brain supplied helpfully- stated huskily. 

“If anyone is being rude here, I believe it would have to be you Mr. Gluskin.” He growled out in response, silently cursing himself for never taking up his old roommate about attending the gym especially with his slight stature. “Let me go.”

They stayed like that simply staring each other in a battle of wills, one trying to get the other to give up their weakness first, like something out of Twilight. Slowly Gluskin’s hands removed themselves from Cecil’s waist and made their way back to his own sides. At the impressive heat of Cecil’s glare, Gluskin stepped back away from him and watched impassively as Cecil picked up the fallen profiles of his patients. Cecil could feel the heat of Gluskin’s stare on his body, and- god- did he want it to stop. It was- violating- inappropriate in all meanings of the word to have a patient feel comfortable just doing stuff like this to him. He pulled a chair away from the desk next to him and sat, opening the folder to Gluskin’s file once more. 

“Alright Mr. Gluskin.” He started, pulling his glasses out of his coat pocket and setting them on the bridge of his nose he looked up at Gluskin. “Do you prefer something other than Mr. Gluskin?”

His blue eyes pierced into him. “Eddie is quite preferable, thank you darling.”

“Okay, then, Eddie. My name is Cecil Thompson and I am going to be your therapist for the duration of your stay here or until I get moved to another patient.”

“Cecil…” His voice was thick like a swamp that Cecil couldn’t rid himself of. “That’s a wonderful name darling.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Let’s start shall we? How would you say you are doing today Eddie?” 

“A thousand times better now that you are with me darling.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes darling?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Eddie- no, Gluskin- looked taken aback by Cecil’s statement, as if someone had just told him, “No you can’t just go around killing innocent girls just because you feel that it is somehow justified by your twisted anger management issues.”

“Why on earth not Cecil?” His voice was as icy as his eyes had become. 

Cecil straightened up in his seat, he may be a push over on some days, but today was not the fucking day thank you very much. “It makes me feel uncomfortable Eddie, and that’s just not something I appreciate as your therapist okay?”

A brief flash of… Something passed over Gluskin’s face, but was quickly replaced by an impenetrable, stony mask. Taking this as consent to continue onwards with their very one sided conversation, he reopened the folder on his lap.

He motioned to a chair in the small room. “Would you mind having a seat Eddie? It will certainly be more comfortable for you.”  
Gluskin dragged up the chair across from him and thus began the session. 

The entirety of the conversation between lasted almost an entire hour. It started slow and uncomfortable, but when Cecil got Gluskin to talk about what he had done for a living he had lit up like a firefly, his eyes were as bright as the sun in that moment. Cecil had been startled by the genuine smile on Gluskin’s face and the enthusiasm he had when he talked about his tailoring and wedding dress business was almost infectious. He talked about different cuts, dress styles, body shapes and how to accommodate different brides. He went on to share a few stories about the dreaded “bridezillas”, and how he wondered how the women had even managed to land a husband with an attitude like that. He managed to elicit quite a few laughs out of Cecil, even if they were involuntary. Every time he laugh at something Gluskin would say there would be this gleam in his eye and his already bright smile would be a little wider. Cecil didn’t know how he felt about Eddie Gluskin. 

Their little appointment ended around 9 o’clock and Cecil made sure to give Gluskin some of his own sketch paper before he left the room. He definitely saw art as a way to distress from anything that could be bothering a person, he used it himself and pointed out to Gluskin that he would certainly love to see some of the designs that would come up with for the next appointment. Cecil hoped this would help him calm his mind in a way that didn’t have him venting in a harmful way to himself or others, but given how Gluskin had elaborated so enthusiastically about previous dress designs Cecil did not see it as a future problem as this was something that Gluskin obviously enjoyed doing. 

Upon exiting the room, Cecil could not help the sigh that escaped him. He pushed his glasses up into his hair and opened the folder. His next appointment was with Walker. He just hoped that it would be less intimidating in its start than the appointment with Gluskin had started. He noticed that he would be there for about two hours and was not excited at all. It was when he had looked up that he noticed the new guard. It struck him as mildly odd that they would rotate guards in the course of only an hour, but he passed it off as just how Murkoff handled their security and dipped his head slightly at the man as he passed him by. Putting the folder under his arm he made his way to room 34 B.

Chris- that is what the man had asked him to call him- was definitely much larger than Cecil would have ever hoped to be, but even with his enormous stature Chris Walker was a gentle bear of a man. Before he had self-admitted himself to Mount Massive he was an avid runner and had two dogs, a Borzoi named Adam, and a Corgi named Giles. He had apparently been in a relationship for a few years during his time in the Marines, and even after he’d be released from the armed forces via honorable discharge. His partner died of leukemia 4 years after his discharge. During the last few months of his boyfriend’s life, he found himself having avid mood swings, black outs in his memory, and severe paranoia over almost ever little thing that went on around him. He brushed off as the PTSD that he had unfortunately gained from the war, and after gaining 50 lbs. he just deemed it as stress eating over his lover’s slowly deteriorating health. He started neglecting his own health, both physical and mental, and his partner, Jonas, noticed the slow receding show of the man he loved melting away in front of his eyes as he lay in the hospital hooked up to IVs and all kinds of filthy tubes that stuck out of him. Apparently it was Jonas who brought it up, convinced Chris to see someone about everything that was happening to him. Even as the man lay dying in his hospital bed, he wanted nothing more than to see his partner happy and healthy even after he was gone. Unfortunately for Jonas, what he wanted was not a solution for Chris’ situation. Chris had gone to therapy originally, found out about his bipolar disorder and had started medication, but as soon as Jonas passed away Chris slowly deteriorated in to a depressed and lonely individual. It wasn’t until he had gotten into a horrible bar fight, almost killing another man that Chris decided to self-admit himself to Mount Massive. 

Even with his terrible story, Cecil found the man to be an extremely expressive individual and suggested to him that he could start keeping a journal to record his thoughts, his dreams, and his stresses away. He left him with that, and Chris thanked him, shaking his hand as if they were just old friends or business partners who had been apart for far too long. 

Lunchtime came and went and with the new patients coming to him in the freedom of the cafeteria and asking him about all kinds of things. One particular patient, known to him simply as “Silky”, was fascinated with his hair and asked Cecil if he could braid it. This somehow ended up with Cecil sitting in the middle of a large circle, ginger ponytail undone and currently in Silky’s skillful hands, as he read a group of patients some of “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon”.

“’She had a bottle of water in her pack-‘” Cecil read, and laughed softly as Silky’s deft fingers accidently tickled the back of his neck. “’-a big one with a squeeze-top- but suddenly all Trisha wanted in the world was to prime the pump in the little hut and get a drink, cold and fresh, from its rusty lip.’”  
Cecil didn’t notice the patient advancing towards him through the thick slew of men. 

“’She would drink and pretend she was Bilbo Baggins, on his way to the Misty Mountains.” He continued reading; not noticing the way Silky’s fingers stopped braiding his long hair. 

It was as he was about to start the next sentence that he noticed the man coming towards him with an aggressive gleam in his eye. Cecil’s hand went to comfort Silky’s trembling fingers. The man was swaying on his feet, his body moving dangerously from side to side as Cecil slowly stood not wanting to aggravate the patient any more than he seemed to already be. Cecil held his hands out in front of him in a placating manner, Silky whimpered behind him, and the patients that had once surrounded him slowly backed away. 

He didn’t recognize this patient as one of his. “Hey hon…” He struggled with what to say, tripping over his words.

The man’s hands curled into fists. His pupils practically overshadowed the entire iris of his eyes. He was acting like a rabid animal. His teeth clenched and unclenched like he was grinding something. A bubbling growl erupted from the patient’s throat and he lunged. His ragged fingernails scraped Cecil’s throat as he tried to get a grip around his neck. Cecil pushed back defensively; trying for the least harmful way of subduing the man while making sure that the man didn’t harm Silky in the process. His hands were pushed up against the patient’s chest. The man either didn’t seem to notice or care as his hands scrambled for Cecil’s throat again, nicking at the skin of his neck. Cecil could hear someone crying out for the guards, the scrambling of booted feet, and worried cries of Silky behind him. 

The man fell on top of him. 

His head hit the floor and his eyes danced with splotches of black. 

He could feel those filthy hands grasp his throat and squeeze.

His fingers scratched the hands. He made the man bleed. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

There was yelling, and pressure even worse than before on his throat. He couldn’t see.   
The next thing he knew he was being carried. He could hear the shoes of his carrier scuff against the tiled floor as the man ran. He could hear a fight. He wondered if Silky was okay. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He just wanted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 will be up as soon as I can stop laughing at my character's stupid job choices.


	4. Miles is Fucking Pissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad shit happens to our boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR DUBIOUS CONSENT  
> Yeah. I was having a really hard time mentally writing this chapter. It was kinda sad. Anyway. Enjoy.

Cecil woke up in a cold sweat. His head pounded like someone had taken a hammer to his cranium. He looked around his surroundings and noticed he was in the nurse’s office of the asylum. It was mainly used for employees, but occasionally there was the occasional patient apparently. He heard a door open and saw a man appear in the doorway to his right. His hair was long, obviously graying, and had a large bald spot that encompassed almost the entire top of his head. 

“Ah! You’re finally awake I see.” The man stated as he walked over to Cecil’s temporary bed, and pulled a clipboard out from underneath his right arm. “How you feeling buddy?”

For a split second, Cecil’s vision blurred around the man, he saw doubles and a shadow- a shadow with angry glowing eyes. 

He clutched his head with one hand and groaned. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train to be honest with you.”

The apparent doctor- judging by his dress and the clipboard in the man’s hands- hummed in a semi-interested manner. “That’d be the concussion buddy, and not a mild one either.” He flipped through the papers on the clipboard with one hand. “My name’s Doctor Traeger by the way.”

Cecil nodded absentmindedly and tried to remember what happened to give him an honest to god concussion. 

The doctor noticed the dazed expression on his face and frowned. “Hey! Kid.” He snapped his fingers in front of Cecil’s face. “I am definitely not comfortable with letting you do whatever it is you do for transportation okay? So we are gonna have to call your emergency contact to get you the hell out of here got it?”

Cecil nodded again and gave the doctor Miles’ number. The man walked off into the adjourning office and left him with his thoughts, his tongue felt heavy in his throat as he tried to remember the later events of the day. He remembered Gluskin, and Chris as well as the patients that came after them, but after that it became blurry, hazy even like someone took a fog machine to his brain and didn’t care to turn it off. The more he tried to remember the stranger his memories of the day became. Thinking about Gluskin and Chris and their previous appointments cast a literal- almost physical- shadow behind them, just standing staring at Cecil as the patients spoke with him. Sometimes the vision of the shadow would become clearer as the patients talked about subject they obviously did not enjoy talking about, but when Cecil thought back to that moment with Gluskin- just talking about his bridal designs- there was no shadow there. 

He wanted to know what he was forgetting, of course he could ask Doctor Traeger, but that would mean that he would know about Cecil’s memory loss and that meant that Miles would eventually know as soon as the man asked. Cecil really was a horrible liar.   
He could hear the doctor in the other room on the phone with Miles. 

“Yes. Mr. Upshur I can most definitely assure you that we at Mount Massive had no idea that this would occur.” A pause. “Now, now Mr. Upshur there is no need to be rude. Billy had no idea what he was doing, and please, the correct term is mentally handicapped or mentally incapacitated. We do not use the “r” word at this facility, it is highly unprofessional really.”

He could almost hear Miles groaning. Cecil himself had to constantly correct the man about his inconsiderate choice of wording when it came to almost every minority imaginable. The man certainly had his flaws when it came opening his mouth and not thinking before hand. 

He had gotten off track. He needed to know what happened without people suddenly worrying about his wellbeing. 

His mind drifted of to the sound of Traeger’s voice and the draft in the vents above him. His eyes started to close and soon enough he was drifting back to sleep.   
This time he didn’t dream immediately. There was darkness for what felt like forever and he was swimming it. The inky blackness surrounding him became thick and wet around his body, sticking and swirling, touching him all over in ways that made him want to cry. The wet tendrils skimmed over his bare thighs and he opened his mouth to cry out only to get a mouthful of black, salty ink curling its way down his throat. Tears pricked his eyes and he could feel a body coming up behind him as he struggled against the painfully tight constrains of the tendrils holding him. The body behind him was like a wall of wet muscle up against his back, and as he squirmed vainly against the being’s grasp he could see a hand come up in front of his face. The clawed black fingers trailed down his left cheek in a morbid motion of affection, then trailed down to his neck and lightly grasped his neck in a firm hold. He cried out against the flesh in his mouth as something wet and thick made its way between his legs. 

He woke up in a cold sweat. A scream was ready on his lips, but he swallowed it down and pulled his knees against his chest to cry. He didn’t hear the opening of the door or the sharp intake of breath that followed. 

It wasn’t until Miles was right in front of him that he recognized the other man’s presence. He held his arms upwards toward him as tears fled down his cheeks silently, and he was engulfed in a warm hug. 

Miles pulled Cecil into his arms, rocking him quietly as he stared at the doctor who had let him in. It was his entire fault. Miles knew this and knew that even with this turn of events that Cecil would only push harder to accomplish whatever his goals for Murkoff were. Miles didn’t care at this point, because now… 

He was fucking pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Eddie next chapter? Who knows? Not me!  
> Also I'm gonna be working on a Dear Evan Hansen fic while I have horrible writers block. So check that out if ya want to!


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